


Bed Bugs Give Hugs

by CottonCandyWool



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-01
Updated: 2014-10-01
Packaged: 2018-02-19 12:08:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2387777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CottonCandyWool/pseuds/CottonCandyWool
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>England wakes up to find America's fallen out of bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bed Bugs Give Hugs

**Author's Note:**

> REALLY short. Just a small break from writing to...write. I feel most of my strengths in writing come from doing harmless one offs where not much happens. Like this. And I really just had to get some fluffy goodness out of my system.

***

England woke to an unexpected lack of warmth. The sheet and the comforter were still draped over him, so it wasn’t for lack of being covered. He sat up and rubbed the sleep from bleary eyes. America should have been there, arms looped around his middle and nearly suffocating him. A quick check of his large, king-sized bed confirmed to him that America was indeed gone, his half of the bed messy and unmade, sheets and blanket trailing onto the floor.  
  
Could he not sleep? It seemed no matter how long he’d been traveling America always took a few days to adjust to a new environment. It wasn’t uncommon for him not to be able to sleep well the first few nights in a hotel. Maybe he just wasn’t feeling and well and hadn’t said anything? These thoughts spurned England to crawl across America’s messy side of the bed instead of the more innocent thought that maybe he’d just gotten up to use the bathroom.  
  
England paused, confusion scrunching his features when his feet met the carpet. Something felt...off. Maybe it was just because it was a hotel he wasn’t used to? He stood and took a step.

Then another.  
  
An odd noise had started and England finally looked down.  
  
It took him a few seconds to realize what had led to this. He could have laughed. He was stepping all over America’s back who he could only assume had fallen out of bed.  
  
America’s whine became a little louder and England finally stepped off the fallen nation. England crouched at America’s side meeting the first sights of sleepy blue eyes with an amused smile.  
  
America stared at him for a few seconds before lifting his head, not seeming to register that he wasn’t in bed.  
  
"Are we late?" He asked, words slurred and voice scratchy. "I thought I set my alarm…"  
  
England shook his head. “What are you doing on the floor, silly?” He kept his voice gentle. There was no need to role them both up when there was still plenty of time to sleep.  
  
America paused in rubbing his eyes, one still covered by his hand. “I don’t know. What am I doing on the floor?”  
  
England finally laughed. “Did you hurt yourself?”  
  
Pushing himself up, America have himself a quick once over. Fingers and toes were wiggled, arms and legs stretched. “Doesn’t feel like it.” He yawned. “What time is it?”  
  
"Too early." England stood and moved to help America to his feet. "Let’s get back to bed. And maybe stay in it this time, hm?"  
  
America was hefted to his feet and crawled into bed after England, pulling the bed sheets up off the floor and tucking himself in. England flopped back into the pillows with a contented sigh.  
  
America’s arms appeared around his waist but instead of being pulled against America’s broad chest and welcoming warmth he found a body being plastered to his own. Shifting so he was on his side England wrapped his arms around America. They would have been face to face if America wasn’t determinedly trying to burrow into England’s chest.  
  
"Why’d—why’d you wake up?" America asked through a yawn, shifting enough so they could at least look at each other.  
  
"My ‘idiot-radar’ still works quite well when I’m asleep." England’s words held no bite as his lithe fingers curled and brushed America’s sleep mussed hair.  
  
A vaguely whiny noise was his answer as America went back to attempting to disappear into England.  
  
"I need to know that you’re alright." England said quietly. "You have a habit of being up too late,  _especially_  the night before a conference." He continued. America had shifted so he could look up at England again who now was pointedly looking away from him.  
  
"I can handle it." America protested.  
  
"I know you can." England said, hand stilling in America’s hair. "But you shouldn’t."  
  
America  _hmphed_  and it was his turn to look away.  
  
"And then," England continued, "you somehow manage to make it through the whole day only to fall asleep far too early and I’m left to my own devices." England said, voice quieting near the end and absolutely  _not_  pouting.

America seemed at a loss for words staring up at him.

"Or when you’re staying with me…and end up falling asleep on the couch while I go up to bed…"

"Why don’t you ever wake me up?" America asked, wiggling so they were a little closer.  
  
"Because you need the sleep." England sighed.  
  
"I don’t need that much!"  
  
"But you  _should_  get that much." His mild scolding was accompanied with a soft swat to the head.  
  
"Well…when I stay with you you can sleep with me on the couch."  
  
"It’s too small, dummy. You know that."  
  
"If I’m good enough as carpet I’d say I’d make a pretty darn good mattress!"  
  
England had to cover his mouth as he laughed. America squeezed him tighter and England returned the embrace in full.  
  
"Or," he said as his fingers once again found their way through America’s hair, "you could just get enough sleep."  
  
"That’s boring." The yawn that followed America’s statement left it unconvincing.  
  
England’s smile didn’t waver as he continued tugging at America’s hair, massaging his scalp. The arms wrapped around him began to relax and America was out in mere minutes. England stopped his attentions to America’s hair as his breathing became steadier.  
  
He planted a kiss on America’s forehead, watching his sleeping face scrunch up and he was treated with a tiny smile before his features smoothed out again. England rewrapped his arms around America and gave one final, proper,  _I-love-you-and-I-need-you-to-feel-it_  hug before finally settling himself back to get some sleep.  
  
The arms around him tightened briefly in return before going slack again. His heart somersaulted even over something so small.  
  
Another kiss was pressed into America’s hair. “Sweet dreams, lovebug.”  
  
It wasn’t a nickname he often used as America found it rather embarrassing. He’d turned bright red, stomped out of the room and hadn’t talked to England for a week when it accidentally slipped out at a meeting.  
  
Sometimes he  _just couldn’t help it_. And them falling asleep wrapped in a shared embrace, well…it only seemed appropriate.


End file.
